


Yellow

by Ennosexual (Peskychloe)



Series: Spinal Injury AU [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Awkwardness, Dirty Talk, Disabled Character, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Skype, Spinal Injury, ennoshita is a bossy little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peskychloe/pseuds/Ennosexual
Summary: Set about a year after the current timeline - Yuuji is living away from Chikara, and they're maintaining a long distance relationship.Can be read as a one-shot, it won't ruin anything. As long as you know Ennoshita is paralysed, you can follow it.





	Yellow

The screen fades up from black, to show Yuuji in a sleeveless top - not a vest, it's the stupid 'Trust me' t-shirt he's cut the sleeves off - sprawled on his desk chair, hand down his pants.

"You know I can see you, right?" Chikara says.

"Oh, shit. Already? I was...adjusting things." He focuses on the screen. "I can hardly see you. Are you sitting in the dark?"

Chikara sucks the black pipe bent in front of his face, sucking it at the correct times to turn up the dimmer on his lighting. "I was watching a film when your call came."

As the light highlights Chikara on his screen, Yuuji sighs. "There you are. Ah fuck. I miss you. Why are you so handsome and far away?"

"Have you been drinking?"

"I don't have to be drunk to appreciate how fine you are."

"Yuuji, love, it's almost midnight."

"Okay okay, don't get chopsy."

"I beg your pardon."

"Ya know. Chopsy. Narky. Mardy." With each word he points a finger somewhere around the room, and it's clear he's definitely had a couple of drinks.

He's been doing this ever since he met people from other parts of England, dropping in regional variations of the same words, and Chikara can't help but smile. "Speak English!"

"See? This is my point. You're being chopsy. Here I am, calling you out of the blue in just my underwear, like you asked, and you're being mean."

"Yuuji, did you know you still have your trousers on?"

"Oh." He looks down at himself. "I forgot you can see me."

Chikara shakes his head and snorts. "How much have you had?"

"Only a couple. Have I told you I miss you?"

"Yes."

He looks at the screen, grinning, and rubs at his crotch with the heel of his hand. "I mean. I _really_ miss you." He bites his bottom lip as he strokes himself through his jeans again.

Chikara gulps. "Oh I see. You miss me like that, yeah?"

"Hmm," he says, and with another motion of his hand, his eyes shut as his head drops back a bit.

"Volume down," Chikara commands his laptop, moving himself closer to his screen. He's been joking with Yuuji about this for weeks, or at least trying to sound like he's joking. He's always been too embarrassed to go through with making him aware he means it.

Before the accident, he'd never been intimate with anyone, but that didn't mean he hadn't tried things.

One thing he had found he enjoyed was watching; on nights when he could get time to himself with his laptop while his parents weren't around, he either watched videos of men pleasuring themselves, or on a few occasions managed to get a cam-boy show.

Obviously he hadn't indulged since then. He didn't need to, Yuuji was more than enough. He was hotter than anyone he'd watched before, plus he wanted Chikara in return.

There was something doubly enticing about it being someone he'd tasted he was watching this time. Triply so if you counted the fact he was giving him a show because he wanted to, not because he was being paid.

As he's wishing Yuuji would take off his jeans as promised, he moves his hands and starts unbuckling his belt. With a clank, it falls from his hand, and he watches it before looking up. "Oops. My jeans will fall now if I stand up, oh no..."

"If you're wearing those ridiculously tight ones, there's no chance they'll fall."

"Wouldn't you like to find out?"

He stands up, and turns around, running his hands over his buttocks. He steps back from the screen, and looks over his shoulder, checking the view.

Chikara is leaning forward as far as he can, mouth slightly open; Yuuji's laugh crackles through the speakers.

"I was gonna check you could see okay, but I'm pretty sure you can."

"Have I told you how perfect your arse is?"

"Many, many times." He hooks a thumb under his waistband, and pulls one side of his jeans down.

With a flash of skin, Chikara can't stop from licking his top lip. "Are you...are you not wearing underwear?"

"Oh, I have underwear on." He snaps an elasticated waistband Chikara hadn't noticed while he was looking at the flesh on display.

"But..." Chikara sounds confused.

"Patience, I'll get there."

Yuuji pulls the side of his jeans back up, and turns back to face his screen. He's far enough back that Chikara can see from his knees up to his neck. He wonders if Yuuji chose that distance on purpose.

There's something erotic about the almost-anonymity, even though he recognises the room and his clothes. He moves his hips side to side, lifting the hem of the stupid t-shirt, the V of his hip disappears into the waistband of his jeans, and Chikara thinks about kissing along it.

Yuuji crosses his arms, pulling the bottom of the shirt up and over his head in one swift movement. The sight of him so suddenly half-naked takes Chikara's breath away.

"You're quiet," he leans into frame to say. He sits back on the chair, so Chikara can see his face as well as his bare torso. His sharp collarbones invite his teeth, and he can't bear it any more.

"Fuck. You're so hot, and I thought this would be sexy, and it's not. It's horrible."

"Oh." He starts to put his shirt back on, face fallen.

"No! Not you. You're perfect. That's the problem."

"I don't...what d'ya mean?"

He tries to think about how to put it into words and struggles. "Give me a second. But please don't think it's you."

"Okay. Take your time." He's stopped halfway through redressing, his sleeves stuck at his elbows, and looks ridiculous even though he's also so beautiful.

What had slipped Chikara's mind was that when he used to watch videos, he had the use of his hands. He could never touch them, but he could touch himself, and it almost made up for it.

The truth he had to face was that watching someone getting off is way more fun if you're also getting off.

Watching someone strip for you and grind against themselves is no fun when you're not involved in any way. He tries to work out how to put this in a way Yuuji will understand, and then remembers that it's Yuuji and he'll get it no matter what.

"Okay. It's no fun cause I'm not touching you or myself. There's nothing in it for me. Just frustration."

"Oh." He thinks for a second. "Oh, shit! Yeah. God, I never thought of that."

"Me neither," he shrugs. "I mean...I do like watching you...climax, obviously. But usually I'm the reason."

Yuuji carries on putting on his shirt, face furrowed in thought. He leans on his desk, and smiles at Chikara, whose heart does a bigger flip than when he was half naked. "I get it. We can wait."

"Don't feel bad. I asked you to do it. And I'm so glad you did it for me."

"I love you, you handsome bastard."

"I love you too, you dirty weirdo."  
  
–

  
Two days later, he's watching another film, when he gets a video call from Yuuji. He answers it, barely thinking. Yuuji is wearing his white silk shirt and it looks unbelievably good against the tan he's got on his skin.

"Hey! Alright?" Chikara says with a rasp.

Yuuji looks a bit flushed, and talks way too fast. "Okay, I've been thinking, right, and I know what we need to do."

"I'm fine, by the way..."

"Shh, let me finish. So you know how we talked about how you like making me cum?"

"I have a vague memory of that."

"Well, what we need to do is, right, you need to tell me what to do."

"Eh?"

"And then I do it."

"I'm not following."

Yuuji sighs in exasperation. " _I'd_ be the one following. You're the boss. Get it?" He stops speaking and smiles, waiting.

The penny doesn't drop. "I have no idea what the fuck you're taking about," Chikara finally says after trying to work it out.

"Tell me to hang up and then call you back. And I must answer immediately."

"Yuuji, you're being weird. Even for you..."

"Just do it!"

"Alright, alright. Yuuji, hang up and I'm going to call you back. And you have to answer straightaway." He pauses and says, for extra effect, "Well? Go on then."

And like that, Yuuji hangs up.

Still slightly confused, Chikara calls him back, and he answers before it's even made one ringing sound.

"Yes, master?"

"Oh my god, don't."

They both dissolve into giggling. "Okay, that was maybe too much. But you get the idea?"

"I think so?"

"Come on then." He's wriggling in his seat, and Chikara can tell he's already getting turned on.

"Urm. Lift your shirt. Just a bit."

Yuuji lifts the bottom of his shirt on the left side, just high enough to expose his waist.

"More."

He pushes it up higher, the flat of his hand sliding up to his chest, pushing the shirt until it folds under his chin.

"Wait." He's surprised when Yuuji's hand stops. "Unbutton it."

He lets the shirt fall, and starts to slowly unbutton it instead, working his way from the top. Chikara watches the sliver of skin grow wider, and looks up when Yuuji's hands stop. He's looking straight at him, a smirk widening on his face along with the triangle of flesh.

"How far down?"

"All the way." He thinks for a second before changing his mind. "Wait. Is this an expensive shirt?"

"Do you want it to be?" he says, in what Chikara can only imagine is meant to be a husky tone.

His voice is lower as he says, "Yuuji, be sensible for a second."

Yuuji leans in, and whispers, "No it isn't. Why?"

"Ok." His raises his voice again so it's back to being what he thinks is commanding. "Rip it off."

Yuuji grabs the sides in his hands, and pulls it away from himself. It doesn't budge.

"Wow. These are well made buttonholes."

"Yuuji, I told you to rip it off!"

He turns and looks at Chikara in mild shock, before grabbing the shirt again, and tugging it harder. He feebly manages to rip off one button, then undoes the other two, before pulling a third time and shouting, "Riiiiiiiip!" as it falls to the floor around his feet.

"You're such a huge dork."

"Stay in the moment, Chika," he says behind his hand. "What do you want me to do next?"

"Fuck. I don't know if this is working, cause all I want is to kiss you and I can't."

Yuuji runs a finger along his bottom lip. "Yeah, I wish you were kissing me too." He runs his fingers in a v-shape down his chin, so they straddle his neck. "You'd kiss me down here, too." He pinches the muscle on the side of his neck. "I like it when you bite here."

"Play with your nipples." The words seem to be as much of a surprise to Chikara as they are to Yuuji.

He obliges him anyway, stroking his neck with one hand as he twists a nipple in between his fingers. He pinches the end and pulls it away from himself with a small gasp.

"Are you imagining that's me?"

"Yeah." He starts pinching the other side, and closes his eyes.

"No, Yuuji."

"Huh?" He opens his eyes, and stops moving. "Why...?"

"Not both. I can't do both sides."

"Oh yeah, yeah." He drops one hand, and carries on twisting his nipple. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Yuuji. You're doing great."

Yuuji gasps, and his free hand reflexively goes to his groin.

"Not both hands!"

"Sorry! It was...tell me I'm doing well."

"What the...?" Chikara mutters under his breath. "I thought I was in charge?"

"You are but...you want to make me cum or not?"

"Why else would we be doing this?"

"Well, that was hot! You telling me that. I liked it."

Chikara watches him squirming, trying desperately not to touch his cock. His eyes are half closed, and his chest beginning to flush. "God, you're gorgeous."

He groans again, his hand flies to his other nipple, before he remembers and he shoves it under his bottom on the chair to resist the temptation.

"Yuuji?"

"Mmm?"

"Would you take off your trousers?"

He stops twisting his nipple and stands. He bends so he can speak into the screen, and says, "How fast?"

"Just get them off!"

He undoes his belt, and drops his jeans to the floor, stepping out quickly. He sits back down, and has a pair of small, obnoxiously yellow underpants on.

"Jesus! What the fuck are those?"

"Oh! Well," he blushes, faltering. "See. I thought these might be sexy the other day. When I'd had a drink. But now I feel a bit stupid."

"Why ever would you feel stupid? That's a totally normal undergarment." He says under his breath, "If you're a stripper."

"Urm, you haven't even seen the back."

Chikara gets a vision from the other day of a bare buttock. "Jock strap?"

Yuuji turns, and shows him the back; two straps come down from the waistband and cup his buttocks. Chikara is torn between making fun of him and saying he wants to bite him, so he just licks his lip instead, composing himself before Yuuji turns back to face him. "They're ridiculous."

"Your ears have gone pink. You _like_ them."

"Your backside is amenable."

"Usually you say phenomenal." He stands again, and turns to the side, grabbing his buttock and squeezing it. "You're flustered."

"Hey!" Chikara suddenly realises, "I'm in charge! I never said you could do that."

Yuuji sits back down, and puts a finger to his lips. "Oops."

Words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself again. "Bad Yuuji." He can't decide if he's done the right thing, until Yuuji makes a small yelping sound. "I think I might make you get dressed again. Or hang up."

He squirms in his seat again. "No, no, sorry. I'll be good." Chikara sneaks a look at the blindingly coloured pouch of the jock strap, and his cock is definitely straining against the fabric.

"Why do you even have a bright yellow jock strap?"

"Ah well, you see, we were the party team, so we all had one. Matched the uniform."

"I'm not following that logic, but it does explain the colour."

"Didn't Karasuno have orange ones?"

"No."

An awkward silence appears, an uninvited guest in this trash pile of a booty call. "That's a pity. I think a neon orange jock strap would suit you. Would have. Before I mean, not now. Obviously."

"Yuuji?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Shut up and show me your dick."

They both laugh, the tension breaks.

“Anything you say.” He dips his fingers under the tight white elastic under his navel, and his erection springs from the top of the pouch. “Can you see that okay?”

“I'd prefer you without the yellow peril.”

“Oh, come on! Give it a try. You might like it. Look,” he says, pulling the elastic further down onto his balls, “It makes it stick right up.”

“Actually...okay, yeah keep it on. Make yourself comfortable.”

He shuffles down into his desk chair, making sure the angle is good for Chikara, planting one foot on the floor, and the other up on the desk. “What shall I do first?”

“You still have your shoes on!”

“Yeah. So?”

“I'm surprised is all.”

“You want to see my feet?” He leans to start untying his shoelaces. “Do you like feet? You never mentioned...”

“No!” He shouts and rolls his eyes. The whole experiment isn't going anywhere near as well as he'd hoped, and he's beginning to wish he never started it. “Yuuji, can you stop being a pain in the arse for five minutes? If we're doing this, let's do it.”

“I'm trying! I've never done this, you know. I'm _trying_ to make it fun. Maybe if you get more into how silly this is, we can enjoy it more?”

“You think this is silly?”

“Well. Yeah. It is a bit, isn't it?”

Chikara looks down at his lap, and contemplates hanging up; he knows avoiding these things never works, though, so he tries to talk. “It's not silly to me. I really do like watching people...wanking. I always have.” He turns away, worried he's going to cry.

“Hey! Sorry! I didn't...I thought...darling? I'm sorry. Look at me.”

Chikara turns, and he's put his shirt over his lap, and is leaning into the screen.

“If I knew you were so serious about this, I'd have tried harder. I assumed it was a daft thing we were joking about.” He shuffles his chair forward, so his face more or less fills the screen. “Now I know, I'll do it properly. Tell me what to do.”

He starts to smile. “Take off that stupid jockstrap.”

Yuuji silently nods, stands up, and removes all his remaining clothes, including his shoes and socks. “You want me to sit down or stand up?”

“Sit down, please.” He does so, arranging himself in his chair. “That's perfect, thank you for listening, Yuuji,” Chikara says softly.

He shivers a little as he admits, “I really do like it when you praise me, you know. I'm not sure what that says about me.”

“That you're more of a sub than you thought?”

Yuuji laughs with a huff. “Are you joking? Our whole relationship started 'cause I fed you every week.”

Chikara joins in with a louder laugh. “Oh, God, you're right!”

He smiles at Yuuji, and for about a minute, they stay still, looking at each other. The smiles straighten as they do, the atmosphere becoming heavier and charged with desire.

“I wish you were here,” Yuuji says, voice gruffer now, “I want you.”

“I want you too.”

“What would you do? If you were here, I mean.” He reaches for his nipple, pinching it slightly, and this time Chikara doesn't stop him.

“All I want is to taste your lips on mine. You have the softest lips I've ever kissed.” He hasn't even kissed that many, but he thinks it sounds good. Yuuji takes a stuttering breath.

“I love your mouth,” he says, as he takes himself lightly into his hand.

“It's nothing compared to yours. It's like nothing else I've experienced.” At this, Yuuji closes his eyes, and leans back his head. “You taste like cherries, did you know? It's delicious.”

“Jesus,” he breathes out, and Chikara doesn't really understand why this is working, but Yuuji looks as turned on as he does when they're in the same room. “Hang on.”

He stops moving his hand, and reaches for a bottle of something from behind him. It's obviously lube, as he drizzles it onto his cock, and it makes a slick noise as he strokes his hand up and down, coating himself.

“Would you believe this is cherry flavoured?” He holds the bottle up to the screen. “I'm not kidding. Now I really will taste like cherries, right?”

“Your cock is already delicious, you don't need flavouring.”

“Chikara,” he breathes out in a sigh. “Fuck.”

“It's true. You know when you're eating Thai food and it's sweet, but salty, but it's spicy as well and your lips start tingling? And the balance of everything is the best thing you've ever tasted, so you have to go in for more? No matter how much there is, it's never enough. You're never satisfied, you always need more.” Yuuji starts panting the more he says, and with the final sentence, he's whining.

“Oh, God,” he says through laboured breaths, “I can't get...enough of your...mouth either.”

“That's nice, but don't speak, Yuuji. Concentrate on making yourself feel good while you listen to me, okay?”

Yuuji nods, eyes closed and lips clenched. One hand moves to his balls, cupping himself as his other hand still moves along his shaft.

“Look at me, though. I want you to remember who's making you feel this way. I want you to only think about me.”

“Chikara,” he pleads, as he opens his eyes and looks at him. “I'm almost there.”

“That's great. You've made me really happy listening to me. Do you feel good?”

Yuuji nods, letting out a groan as his eyes flutter closed. He stops touching himself except for the tip, lightly fingering it with the lube coated tips of his fingers. Chikara logs this detail for next time they're together; feeling a jolt of pleasure from seeing Yuuji delay his orgasm, he also makes a mental note to look deeper into that, too.

“Yuuji? You can cum any time you want to.”

No sooner has he said it than Yuuji starts thrusting his hips, pushing his cock in and out of his fisted hand. Chikara carries on talking, disconnected phrases about how sexy Yuuji is, how beautiful he looks like this, how much he loves him. It's no time at all until his body stiffens, his fist slowly moves along himself instead, and he cums all over his stomach.

A sigh of relief turns into, “Chika,” and he swipes a finger over his stomach, before putting it to his mouth. “Cherries,” he says with a smack of his lips, “You were right.”

There's a swelling in his chest as he sees the effect he had on his boyfriend; Yuuji slumps further in his chair, looking thoroughly spent but satisfied, a moist trail following the line of hair leading down his stomach. He's bursting with pride for achieving this from such a distance, with only his voice.

“You okay?” he asks, as Yuuji pants.

“Mmm. You?”

“Yeah. I am if you are.”

Yuuji carries on stroking over his stomach as he speaks. “It wasn't as good as you being here, but it was close. So much better than doing it alone. Your voice made it.”

“I love you so much. Thanks for doing this.”

He leans to the side and picks up his shirt, wiping himself down with it. “It was a pleasure. Literally.” He smirks at him, but Chikara just rolls his eyes. He brings the shirt to his nose, and sniffs it. “You want this shirt posting to you? It smells like me now.”

“That might take some explaining when someone else opens the parcel.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should bring it when I next visit instead then?” He puts the shirt back, leaving it unbuttoned. The bottom hem skims over his crotch as he chastely crosses his legs.

“I'd like that a lot.” He blows a kiss through the screen. “Leave the fucking jockstrap at home though. Better yet, burn the bloody thing.”

Yuuji laughs, and hangs up without agreeing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> We watched a programme where someone said someone was being 'chopsy' and now I can't stop saying it.


End file.
